Tony Plays Cupid
by UniqaChica
Summary: Inspired by the bold romanticism of Betty Ross, Tony sets forth on a mission to play matchmaker for his fellow teammates. Canon ships. Rated because I'm paranoid.


(A/N: Hello, all! So, it's official – tumblr has devoured my soul. But that's beside the point. I had a lot of plot bunnies for Avenger X Girlfriend reunions laying around that all involved Tony in some way, and I had the genius idea to put them all together! Now, I know there's some canon details that I'm gonna screw up, but I'm just not that smart, so please forgive me. Other than that, I really hope you enjoy!)

Summary: Inspired by the bold romanticism of Betty Ross, Tony sets forth on a mission to play matchmaker for his fellow teammates.

Disclaimer: "The Avengers" and all affiliated characters belong to Marvel Comics. I own nothing but the storyline.

Tony Plays Cupid

An Avengers Fanfic

by Jill Diamond

~Chapter One~

"Sir, there's a call for you on Line 1."

Tony's eyes fidgeted against the sunlight, and a groggy moan growled at the bottom of his throat. He could barely make out the glowing red numbers on his bedside table.

His first thought was, 'who the hell is awake and functioning at twelve after seven in the morning?'

The slender arm that ensnared his waist shifted.

"Who is it, JARVIS?" Pepper asked to the ceiling in a low voice, but clear enough to indicate that she had been up for several minutes.

Tony's second thought was, 'apparently Pepper is awake and functioning at twelve after seven in the morning.'

"A private number, most likely business."

"Telemarketers," Tony supplied as soon as the AI punctuated himself. "Don't give in, JARVIS. They strike when their prey is weakest. They can smell fear. They're like vampires – sucking every drop of intelligence and hope you have left straight out of your ears until you have no choice but to gather up an army of aliens and try to rule other planets...I think I just had an epiphany."

Pepper giggled and then, when JARVIS didn't respond, shimmied over and laid her head on Tony's chest. There was a slight hum from the arc reactor, audible only in close proximity, that she had grown accustomed to.

They snuggled this way, with Tony stroking Pepper's back, for about two minutes before JARVIS chimed in again.

"Sir, the caller was not a telemarketer, but rather a government number, and they have left a voice mail for you – I believe you should listen."

"Oh, for the love of..." Tony threw the covers off of his legs and hurled himself up onto his feet, dragging his cotton sweatpants down to his ankles. If he wasn't going to have a foolproof peaceful morning, what was the point in trying? "I fight seven, eight squadrons of Chitauri and save Manhattan from a nuclear explosive, and instead of a little rest, I can't even get five freakin' minutes to myself. Okay, let's hear it!" he grumbled, pulling a t-shirt out of his dresser.

"_...Hello, Mr. Stark, my name is Betty Ross."_

By the first three words of the voice mail, Tony confirmed that it was definitely _not _a telemarketer, or if she was, she was in the wrong profession. He guessed she was mid-to-late thirties, and she spoke in a light voice with a girl next door sex appeal.

"_I...noticed that you were part of the defense team in the Battle of New York, and...I...also noticed that you were..." _there was a dry gulp on the line, _"working with a former colleague of mine, and...look, Mr. Stark, I'm just going to cut to the chase. If there's any way I could get a message to Bruce Banner, you can call me back and I would really, really appreciate it. Goodbye." _The message stopped before Miss Ross could finish her breath.

"That sounded personal," Pepper admitted almost gravely.

Tony was silent. He cast a glance over his smart phone, and then grabbed it, a pair of jeans, and his custom order Iron Man slippers, and made his way onto the porch for some privacy (as much privacy as you can get when you're pants-less above New York City).

"JARVIS, call 'er back."

"Of course, sir," the AI replied from nowhere in particular. The billionaire cradled the phone in the crook of his neck and started to wriggle a leg into his jeans.

"_U.S. Air Force Research Laboratory, New York, this is Elizabeth Ross, how can I help you?" _the same voice from before rattled off in a single breath.

"Hi, Betty, this is Tony Stark; we almost spoke a minute ago?"

"_Oh, yes, of course!" _He could hear her brushing her hair back, and a pencil clattered against a table.

"Forgive me for asking, but what _is _your connection to Banner?"

"_Well, Bruc..._Dr. Banner _and I...were dating and then...after the accident, he moved to Calcutta to try and protect me. Of course, he didn't tell me, and that was just a whole other terrifying panic in itself...uh, about his accident! Not about him moving! I mean, he's a wonderful guy, don't get me wrong! He just...worries too much."_

Tony nodded, despite the fact that Betty couldn't see him. He was fully dressed at this point, leaning against the railing.

"_But, when I watched the news and saw that he was back in New York...he is back in New York, isn't he? Please tell me he stayed."_

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. And we're all very glad."

"_I...I thought...I just got my hopes up."_

They held a mutual silence for a few seconds.

"Sounds like he means a lot to you."

"_Very much. Mr. Stark, I just need to know he's okay. If I could get a message to him-"_

"Call me Tony, and I have a better idea. You said you were in New York?"

"_Yes, sir." _There was still a quiver in Betty's voice.

"Tell you what, why don't you pop over to Stark Tower later today and we'll work something out?" What Betty didn't know was that there would be nothing to work out. Bruce had been living in Stark Tower ever since the Battle of New York. Betty's surprising forwardness had motivated Tony to plan an intervention, so to speak.

"_A-alright, I can be there as soon as I leave the lab."_

"Excellent. We'll be waiting."

"_Hm?"_

"Nothinggabye."

Tony ended the call and winced, mentally cursing himself for almost giving everything away. God knew it had been way too long since Banner had gotten some. He wasn't letting this opportunity slip.

"I wonder if there's any chance _she'll _turn into an enormous green rage monster..." he thought to himself half seriously as he reentered the building and made straight for the bar.

"You're up to something," Pepper piped up. To Tony, she had appeared out of thin air, but in reality had been sitting on the couch ever since he had gone outside. "I can smell it."

"You smell nothing but my cologne," he retorted, not even looking up as he poured himself a shot of scotch.

The redhead hopped up from the couch and made her way over to the bar. Even though Tony wasn't looking, she made sure the angle of her skimpy nightgown was revealing just enough of her long, pale legs.

"Oh, _that's _what it is. I thought you had just spilled a little motor oil on your clothes last night."

_That _got Tony's attention. His brown eyes shot up and glared playfully at her teasing blue orbs. He promptly downed his scotch.

"You're lucky you're cute."

"Well, you're lucky you're rich." Pepper sauntered around to the back of the bar, never breaking eye contact. Tony felt a small kick in his chest.

"Well, you're lucky that I cared about you so much that I allowed you to sleep in my own bed."

"And you _snored_," she added, with a quip of her brow.

They smirked at each other in silence for a torturing (at least for Tony) few seconds before he caved. He gripped firmly around her waist and drew her close, crashing his lips deeply onto hers. Pepper Potts knew how to work him, and if that was going to be the death of him, so be it. Tony would go willingly. He felt her fingers lightly graze against the stubble along his cheek. He pulled away, but not completely, and began planting more kisses, precise in location but sloppy in execution, all the way down her jaw and neck. Her hand pressed against his broad shoulder, nails digging into his t-shirt as if she would fall ten thousand feet if she let him go. His tongue swiped against her smooth skin when he reached her pulse point, and her small gasp caused him to smile into his work.

"Were you planning on doing anything today?" he mumbled huskily, giving her another peck on the lips and then beginning to work down her other side.

"Well...I was going to handle some press announcements for you-" Pepper shivered when she felt his hand slide painfully gently up the back of her thigh.

"Not anymore."

xx

Much to Tony's protest, three glorious hours later, Pepper did head into the office, Louboutins and all. He was left all alone with Banner, who barely left his bedroom and/or Tony's workshop unless food was being served. And when he did come into the outside world, Tony had to physically control himself from spilling the romantic surprise. After lunch, he placed a delivery order for dinner at least four hours early (an ungodly amount of shawarma), and then hunkered down in his workshop to "buff out the scratches" on the Mark VII. He was beginning to think his hand was starting to grow to the welding torch when his smart phone chimed with a text message.

_Sir, Miss Ross is coming up the elevator. -JARVIS_

Tony smirked with a sigh of relief and shook out of his protective glasses, thankful that Pepper had insisted putting in a stairwell. He took them two at a time. As soon as he was at the top floor, he smoothed his hair back and tried to act nonchalant, knocking on Banner's door.

Bruce Banner had a very specific dress code – soft button-down shirt (preferably with the sleeves rolled up) and slacks, sport coat 30% of the time, glasses 75% of the time, and loafers 90% of the time. Today fell into the rare 10% of sock feet. When he opened the door, his brow was quizzical but trying not to appear so. Tony didn't even give him a chance to speak.

"Hey, you up for a drink?"

The question was off guard, to say the least. The doctor's eyes were physically calculating Tony's random forwardness and the prospect of alcohol.

"Ah, I don't drink," he answered as quickly as he could, his tone begging to change the subject (a tone that only urged Tony Stark to pester further).

"Come on, a little virgin somethin' won't kill you." The billionaire grabbed Bruce's arm and pulled him out of his cave. "It is _open bar, _after all."

No one in their right mind would give Bruce Banner alcohol. Especially someone like Tony who knew first hand that meeting someone you hadn't seen in years while _tipsy _was one of the worst things a man could possibly do. Not to mention the much more obvious reason (which normally wasn't a problem for Tony, but tonight was different).

He only pulled out one glass, but kept his hand lingering around the collection as he poured the brandy as slowly as possible. Bruce's eyes kept flitting between Tony's and the brassy liquid between them, a wince in his cheek to say, "Are you serious?"

The hiss of air as the elevator (finally) opened didn't startle Bruce at all, assuming it was Pepper. But when he turned around, his heart jumped and his breath caught in his windpipe. Tony plopped the brandy back onto the counter in victory.

Betty Ross was exactly the kind of woman Tony pictured Bruce would go after. She had a bright face and bright eyes, with soft brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was self-conscious, but not vain, dressed in a fitted pair of blue jeans, a green boat neck top, and boots. Her purse was hidden under her overcoat, carried in both hands. She was not extremely thin, but her body was well taken care of. The moment she stepped out onto the plus carpet, her eyes were not drawn to the lavishly expensive and newly renovated furnishings, not to the forty-foot-wide view of the city below, but straight to the scruffy doctor who was leaning against the bar. Her pale cheeks instantaneously flushed a bright pink.

"Betty..." Her name was just a breath on Bruce's tongue, still in shock.

Drink in hand, Tony all but sprouted wings and flew across the room, grinning ten miles wide as he spoke.

"Ah! Miss Betty Ross, right on schedule. I admire people who are punctual, though it's never been one of _my_ virtues. And my, aren't you lovely? Banner, isn't she lovely?"

"Ah, Tony, did you-" Bruce felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. He hadn't moved from the bar.

"Oh, don't mind me! I get it. You two have a lot of catching up to do." He smirked as he pulled his smart phone back out and hopped into the elevator himself. "I'll be out of your hair."

"Ton-" Bruce was cut off as the elevator doors sliced shut, carrying Tony back down to his workshop in peace. The billionaire tapped lazily on his phone screen with an extended pinkie.

"Security Camera 6," he demanded, sipping his drink.

The small screen was immediately filled with a semi-bird's eye view of the lounge, with Betty and Bruce facing each other in silence. Slowly slipping his glasses off and into his hands, Bruce spoke up first.

"Did Stark invite you over?"

She simply nodded, eyes dead center.

"Well, whatever you've heard about him in the news, it's true, so..." Bruce had planned on going somewhere with that sentence, but the longer he looked at Betty, the more he wished he wasn't having this conversation. Here. Now. In Stark's house.

She didn't say anything. Her chest rose deeply, like a silent sob. She threw her coat and purse down to the floor and stomped towards him. Bruce put his hands up in pathetic protest.

"Betty, I know you're upset-"

Betty wasn't listening. She took hold of his face with both hands and kissed him hard. The doctor almost toppled over, he was caught so off guard. But eventually he sunk into the kiss and drew his arms around the small of her back, folding her into him. He had missed _this _more than anything.

Tony took a seat at a desk cluttered with wing nuts and clamps, and threw the image from the security camera into the air, where it was caught on a much larger screen that didn't seem to be there.

Betty looked physically pained to break from the kiss. She clung to the soft yellow fabric of his shirt and buried her face into his shoulder.

"I was worried sick, I'm so sorry, but I had to see you-"

"Hey, hey, slow down. Everything's okay..." Bruce purred, planting kisses on her forehead and pulling the stray hair away from her face. She sniffed once and looked squarely at him with her glistening blue eyes.

"Three years of being alone with no contact, worrying that you were going to get locked up like a science experiment, or that you were going to try to kill yourself again, or God knows what else. Those are three years I'm never going to get back."

Bruce was still. He felt like he had just swallowed a cannon ball. There was a bite to Betty's voice that was usually reserved for speeches about her father. His hands rested as gently as possible on her shoulders, his thumbs subconsciously stroked against the bare skin at the nape of her neck.

"I'm sorry," he confessed, the words barely audible. "But I was trying to protect you." He felt like he had given that excuse twenty times; it felt sour in his mouth, but it was the truth.

"From what?" The bitterness was gone and replaced by a half-smile filled with so much love it made Bruce ache from the inside out. Dropping his hold on her, he scratched behind his head and began to aimlessly pace, trying to answer her. Because, in all honesty, after everything that had happened, he didn't know anymore. Everything relating to the other guy used to be black and white – _Hulk is bad; don't get angry_ – but now, everything was completely gray. His shoulders had been lifted but the chains on his feet clamped tighter.

"Me..." he started, not exactly coming out a confident statement. "The government...the hail of bullets raining on me everyday...everything that SHIELD does and gets involved with..." He stumbled back onto the couch, folding his hands together and staring at nothing in particular. "I couldn't risk putting you in the cross hairs. I couldn't risk losing you."

Betty was silent. She exhaled slowly and avoided eye contact. To most people, she seemed to have nothing else to say, but Bruce noticed the shift in her presence.

"What?"

She swallowed.

"...SHIELD offered me a job in their forensics lab. I'm scheduled for an interview next week." the second she saw his eyes begin to darken, she was at his side on the couch, one hand resting firmly on top of his interlaced ones. "I know what you're going to say, but...I really, _really _want this. This is such a great opportunity; SHIELD is offering me at least double what I get with the Air Force, and I can _finally _separate myself from my dad, and...it will make me feel better if I'm close to you."

"Betty, I...this is...you...a..." Bruce exhaled deeply, unable to put together a coherent sentence. He lowered his head in defeat and massaged the bridge of his nose. Betty stroked the hand she still held with her thumb, bringing it closer to her side of the couch.

"I know that it's going to take time, but I want you to be okay with this."

He sighed again, and turned to look up at her with warm, tired eyes. This was the first time he had smiled since she had walked in the door.

"I really have missed you," he said, his voice huskier than usual.

"Blue eyes sparkled in response. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She relished in the warmth of his hands sliding across her hip and shoulder blade.

"I missed you more," she whispered thickly.

He pressed a kiss against the length of her neck as their embrace turned more or less into a snuggle.

Tony lifted his cheek from his knuckles and softly flexed his shoulder blades.

"I think they've earned their privacy," he murmured, rising from his seat. The security footage blinked off the screen. Tony realized that it was _much _earlier than he thought it was; he could feel the movie theater syndrome in the corners of his eyes. He considered crashing on the couch for a nap, when JARVIS chimed in with his usual calm wit.

"Sir, I believe your shawarma is waiting in the lobby."


End file.
